Reckless(55)

All that anxiety melts away like a thunderstorm dissolving into the horizon.

How was he married and yet this is the first time? Isn’t this something a husband does for his wife from time to time?

Because, yeah, if Ethan were my husband, I’d want the deluxe package. Hair-washing, conditioning, and steamy shower sex. On the regular.

My heart does a happy skip in my chest at the thought of Ethan being mine in a permanent kind of way.

Calm down, crazy. He hasn’t asked you to pick out wedding invitations.

His big hands land on my hips and slowly turn me, and I’m smiling from all of his attention. From knowing I’m the first woman he’s touched like this.

Standing in the shower, with water pulsing down and warm, amber lights shimmering from above, I’m overwhelmed by him. By the stubble across his strong jaw. By the electricity in his eyes. By the sleek strength of his body.

“I’ve never had a guy wash my hair.” I’m not sure why, but I feel shy and stare at his chest when I say this. “You’re going to spoil me.”

I swallow. The barest parts of me just beneath my skin feel so thirsty, like I’ve survived a long drought waiting for the rain. Waiting for him.

With one finger, he tilts my head so I have to look up at his beautiful face.

He smiles and leans down to brush his lips against mine. “Good. Because thinking about some other guy touching you like this makes me insane.” One more kiss, this time to my shoulder. “And I’d gladly wash your hair every day, sweetness.”

This is too fast. Too crazy. Too soon, a voice in my head screams, my limbs going weak.

Closing my eyes, I try not to get overwhelmed.

No, I want this. I’ve wanted this all summer, if I’m being honest with myself.

Aren’t the best things in life about taking chances? At least that’s how I used to feel when I was younger. It’s not fair to deny Ethan my full heart because I’ve made mistakes in the past. Carpe the fucking diem and all that, right?

I’m doing this, I decide. I’m all in. Because I don’t want to look back on my life and realize I screwed this up or lost out on a great man because I was too chickenshit to try.

His hot breath is in my ear when I pull his body closer, wrapping my arms around his neck, his sizable erection thumping against my stomach.

We slide together, and the moment our mouths connect again, we both groan. Those rough hands move down to my ass. Stroke along my thighs. Squeeze my breasts.

“You sure about this, baby?” he asks between deep, drugging kisses.

I’m over my internal crisis. Everything in me is slanted toward him like a field of wheat pointed toward the sun. “Fuck, yes.”

I grip his wet hair and hold his mouth to mine, which gets me another groan rumbling from his chest.

A moment later, and my back is against the wall. Wedged against the corner, where he picks me up by the back of my legs like I weigh nothing and settles me on his thick thighs so that my core is nestled perfectly against his erection.

We both look down at how he spears my flesh, the sight obscenely beautiful.

My thighs tighten and I try to move, but he won’t let me. For a second, his rough hands merely smooth over me, over my back and breasts and stomach until I’m a writhing mess. Slick and swollen and ready for him to fill me.

He doesn’t though. Not yet.

My heart is a heavy beat between my legs when he slides his wide cock against my skin. Quick jolts surge though me as his thick crown notches against my clit. Over and over and over again.

“You feel so good. So wet,” he murmurs against me. His shoulders and neck and forearms pull taut from holding me. From holding back and working me over.

I’m wordless. A free-fall of want and need and drive to finish.

My head falls back—mouth open, breath caught—as every part of me tenses, but then he’s sucking on my neck. Licking behind my ear. Biting my shoulder.

Unintelligible words fall from my lips, but they’re all a mixture of how good he makes me feel and how close I am and dear God, don’t stop.

But when his mouth closes around my nipple, I come apart, flailing. Flying. Shocking jolts of pleasure shuddering up my body.

I’m wrapped around him with my face pressed to his neck, panting and shivering with the euphoric surge of that orgasm.

Though he’s pressing sweet, soothing kisses to my shoulder as though we have all the time in the world to love and fuck, he’s still very hard and very thick between my legs.

The thought of that urges me out of my stupor and down to my knees. Because now it’s his turn to fall apart.





32





Ethan





My gorgeous mermaid slides down to her knees, the sight of which jerks my cock in anticipation.

“Do you have a condom?” she asks softly as she wraps her slender hand around my length and kisses the tip.

I watch her pink tongue dart out to taste me, to lick off the bead of cum weeping out of me.

Breathe.

Don’t blow all over her pretty face.

That would be rude.

And anti-climactic.

Her eyes shift up, and I remember she asked a question. “Yeah.” I clear my throat. “I do.”

Mentally, I thank my brother for being a nosy son-of-a-bitch and bringing me a box when it was clear I had it bad for this girl.